Overwatch: No Gods, Only Men
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: It was hard to keep your faith in a world that gave you so little to believe in.


**No Gods, Only Men**

It was a Sunday, and Jack Francis Morrison was in the Cathedral of Our Lady of Egypt.

There were a few perks for being in here. First, it was an escape from the heatwave that was gripping Cairo – outside, it was 46 degrees, here, it was a balmy 31. Still warmer than he cared for, but not so warm that it was unbearable.

Second was that there was no surveillance equipment in here. The security net of Cairo was pitiful compared to, say, London, but it was wide-ranging enough for him to keep his head down and his pace brisk. Egypt itself didn't have any real beef with him, but extradition was still a thing. Boys back home wanted him for Watchpoint: Grand Mesa. Helix Security International had a presence in this country. And HSI was quite living to live up to the "international" part of that name.

Third perk was that it was an escape. A piece of refuge from the insanity gripping the world outside him. Riots in Europe. War in Russia. Anarchy in Australia. Civil unrest in South America. Famine and drought in Africa. At times, it felt like the world was burning down. But beyond feeling was the fact that there were people who wanted it to burn down even faster. He'd encountered them. Fought them. And being as old as he was, and hunted by the world he felt some inclination to protect…well, he figured praying to God wouldn't harm anything.

So he sat on the pew, in silence – whispers drifted through the edifice, while most of the people here prayed in silence. Back in Illinois, he'd prayed quite vocally – Ma and Pa had made sure that good Jack Morrison had gone to church each Sunday, and went to school afterwards. Here, now…peace on earth was a regular prayer. Forgiveness for his sins? He had more than he could count, but God was nothing if not forgiving. Forgiveness for the sins of his enemies? That was hard. Even more so for one man in particular. Maybe in time he _could_ forgive that bastard, but-

"Jack?"

He remained silent. Still seated on the pew, hands still in front of him, eyes still closed. Still, his ears continued to work their magic, enough that he could hear the sound of his companion walk into the same pew row and sit down beside him.

"Jack?"

He sighed. "Hello Ana." He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Should I even ask what you're doing here?" The way she looked at him, it was clear that she wasn't happy.

He shrugged.

"Listen, neither of us are particularly popular right now, and-"

"It's hot outside, and no-one's going to be looking for me in a church."

She sighed, leaning back in the same pew. He saw her look around, scanning the interior of the structure.

"Don't waste your time. I took the lay of the land."

"And how long ago was that?"

"Thirty minutes."

"You know a lot can change in thirty minutes right?"

"Yes…but in situations that move more fluidly than this." He leant down and picked up a water bottle, one with an obnoxious mascot that was yelling "H2-whoah!" He took a sip nonetheless.

"Aren't you Catholic?" Ana asked.

Jack put the cap back on the bottle. "Coptic, Catholic, same thing."

"Right…" He couldn't tell if the tone of her voice came from incredulity, or honest ignorance. He didn't particularly care. He'd never been one to proselytize. He'd left that to people like Adawe and Petras. He'd just gone where they'd told him to go, and as he'd thought at the time, do a good job for standing up for common human values, regardless of whatever religion he or anyone else followed. Course, that was then. Now?

 _Now Talon's on the rise, and has Reyes in their ranks._

Three months had passed since their last encounter. The point where he'd come face to face with a man he'd thought had perished in the ruins of Overwatch HQ in Switzerland. Death, it seemed, had passed up on both of them. That had been in December, now it was March. Early spring, with all its sweltering heat, and-

"Why are you here?" he asked Ana.

She smiled sadly at him. "Thought you'd never ask." She looked round the interior of the church before handing Jack a d-pad. "Thought you'd want to see this."

Jack took the pad in his hands and swore under his breath. The video showed the courtyard of some kind of prison facility, as seen from one of the area's security cameras. The logos on the guards' uniforms indicated that they were HSI troopers. Something was firing at them from above – something with heavy ordnance. Limited as the angle was, Jack could make out various prisoners sprinting across the yard.

"Where is this?" he asked.

"Western China," Ana said. "Actual facility is designated Sierra Eleven. Mandarin isn't good enough to tell you what that translates as." She tapped on the screen. "Want to watch this part though."

Given what he beheld, Jack was quite sure that he _didn't_ want to watch it. Because by this point, the overhead fire had slowed down, and the poor mooks in the courtyard were beginning to regain their bearings. But they weren't going after the prisoners. Rather, they were training their guns on someone else who had walked into the frame. Someone that Jack hadn't seen since December of last year.

"Reyes," he murmured.

"Reyes, Reaper…" Ana sighed. "Got our man at least. Rumour has it he was in Venice when Talon had its, ah, change in leadership, but this is the first confirmed sighting."

Jack was barely listening, so transfixed as he was on the screen. Reyes was walking there, a shotgun in each hand. The guards were slowly closing in, as if unable to comprehend the lull in the carnage.

"Come on," he whispered. "Move it…"

They never did. He'd known from the moment he started seeing the recording that it wasn't going to end well for those on screen, but this?

Reyes (even now, he thought of him as Reyes) shot first, firing the shotguns with more speed than should have been humanly possible given the recoil on these things. In a second, three guards were dead. Second after that, they began to fire. At such close range, against a normal human being, it should have been the end of it. But-

"Here," Ana said. "Watch this."

It was as Reyes became a living shadow. It glided in and out of the courtyard – bullets were going into the shadow and not coming out, so in theory, the guards were hitting something. But if they were, it wasn't doing any good. They kept firing at the shadow and doing nothing. The shadow kept firing back, killing one of them with each shot. By now, the guards were beginning to back away, but not retreating.

 _Damn it, move!_

They didn't. Not even as the shadow glided into the centre of them, and reformed into the figure of the Grim Reaper. Bearer of death. Not with scythe or sickle, but with a sudden volley of shotgun shells. In some kind of perverse way, it was beautiful, the way Reyes could 'dance' as he did, unleashing blasts with every motion. If it were a ballet, he was the star, and those who fell around him all bit players on the stage. As he stood to, only one guard left standing, out of what had used to be a dozen.

 _Run._

The guard dropped her rifle and began to flee.

Second after that, Reyes shot her in the back, causing her to fall down. She didn't get up.

Jack didn't realize how hard he was clenching his left fist (while using his right to balance the pad) until he saw Reyes turn and walk away. Nor did he notice how hard he was clenching his teeth until he saw one of the guards try to crawl away…and stopped crawling as Reyes casually unloaded a shell into his back while walking off screen.

"Fuck," he whispered.

The recording didn't last long after that. The amount of dust swirling around in the courtyard suggested that a dropship was taking off, joining the gunship (or similar craft) that had been in the sky. And then, nothing. Just the bodies of the dead, and piles of shell casings that stood as their monument.

"And that's it." Ana gingerly took the pad out of Jack's hands. He looked at her – her face told him that she was feeling the same way he was.

"I have some contacts in HSI," she continued. "Some of them aren't keen on the idea of this being kept quiet."

"Is Fareeha-"

"No, Fareeha's still in Canada." As before, her face and words betrayed her, this time disgust replaced with gratitude. "Still, whatever HSI does or doesn't do isn't relevant. All that matters is that we finally have a lead on Talon."

"And Reyes."

She frowned. "Don't call him that Jack."

"Pardon?"

"Reaper." She sighed. "You did read the Interpol file didn't you? He goes by Reaper now."

"Does it matter what I call him?"

"Considering your history? It might help."

"My history," he whispered. He leant forward on the pew again, avoiding Ana's gaze, and instead fixing it on the sight of the man on the cross dozens of feet away from him. "Pretty sure it was your history as well."

"Yes…if not for the same period of time."

"And is that that easy?" Jack asked, glancing back at her. "To just…let that history go? Like that?"

Ana frowned. "Alright Jack, I'll play. But two questions. First, what happened in Switzerland?"

Jack didn't' say anything. He wasn't ready to talk about Switzerland. Not even with Ana.

"Didn't think so. And second of all, do you have children?"

"What? No," he exclaimed.

"Right," she said. "Well, when you do, and when that child is…" She trailed off, putting a fist to her mouth. She looked away. Gingerly, Jack reached for her shoulder.

"Ana…we'll get him before-"

"Course we will." She looked back at him, trying (and failing) to hide her thoughts. "Course we will."

Jack removed his hand from her shoulder. Some people, like Ana Amari, never changed. Others, like Gabriel Reyes, did.

 _Have I changed?_

He leant back at the pew, looking up at the man on the cross. Had he changed? Answer to that question depended on how far one was willing to go, he supposed. Had he changed in the last few months? No. Last few decades? Sure. Last few years?

 _What happened in Switzerland?_

He knew the answer. But-

"How's he still alive?" he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Reyes. How's he alive?" He looked back at Ana. "You saw him on the screen. You saw him in Cairo. Like…what the hell happened to him?"

"You're asking me?"

"Who else am I going to ask?"

"Well, I can think of two people." Ana frowned. "Of course, one of them is working for Talon right now, and the other is only a few countries away…"

"Ana-"

"Jack, you can't do this alone. And Angela's our best bet."

"Best bet for what?"

"To find out what the hell happened to Reap…fine, _Reyes_." She frowned. "Of course, Angela isn't a shrink."

Jack frowned and looked back at the cross. Again.

World had gone mad, he thought. He'd lived his life in the belief that in spite of everything, there _was_ life after death, and that if he kept his faith, and backed up that faith with deeds, then his soul would remain clean. Now, he was faced with what might as well be the walking dead.

"Jack?"

Jesus had died for the sins of mankind. Much as he'd love to do the same, he doubted that sacrifice would stop Reyes or Talon – especially since Reyes was…whatever the hell he was right now.

"Jack?"

 _How do you kill the undead anyway?_

"Jack!"

He looked at Ana – so did a few other people, not looking happy that the silence of the church had been interrupted.

"Hmm?"

She smirked. "You looked a thousand miles away."

"No, no, just…thinking." He took another sip of water. "Shall we go?"

"I've got a private flight charted for tomorrow. Yes yes, don't thank me, and yes, it's someone else I trust."

Jack took a sip, before asking, "another contact?"

"Egypt's my home. I've still got friends here." She got to her feet. "I'll see you back at the safehouse."

Jack grunted. Ana, for her part, lingered. She looked at Jack, then at the man on the cross above both of them.

"Bit macabre, isn't it?" she asked. "Taking your faith from an instrument of torture?"

He glanced at her. "You want to discuss theology?"

"No, no. Had enough of that as a girl." She smiled. "If anything, I was more into the Egyptian gods."

"Is that where Fareeha gets it from?"

"In part." She sighed. "See you around Jack."

He grunted, leaning back in the pew, hearing Ana's footsteps slowly fade away. Hearing the whispers of men and women, all under the sight of God. Dwelling in a world where mortality meant less and less each day.

 _We're coming for you Reyes._

He couldn't forgive Reyes. If, when, that bastard entered a second and final grave, he could pray for mercy, but until then…

Until then, he had a bit more praying to do.

* * *

 _A/N_

 _Fun fact, if you look at Jack's dog tags in the game, he's listed as Catholic (Reyes has "no religion")._

 _Not that that's the greatest revelation in the world, but gave me the idea to drabble this up. Also the fact that it's nearly been a year in real time and Jack and Ana are apparently still in Egypt doing...stuff since the last comic they appeared in._


End file.
